Knows injuries

Kincaid wasn't moving much, though he was clearly trying to support some of his weight. His skin was chalk white. He was covered in blood. The rest of Michael's shirt, and both of Sanya's, had been pressed into service as emergency bandages-and layers of duct tape had been wrapped around and around them, sealing them into place around both arms, over his belly, and around one leg.
Murphy hissed and went to him, her voice raw. "Jared."
Jared. Huh.
"Dresden." Kincaid gasped. "Dresden."
They laid him down, and I shambled over. I managed not to fall down on him as I knelt beside him. I'd seen him wounded before, but it hadn't been as bad as this. He'd used the tape the same way, though. I checked. Sure enough, there was a roll of tape hanging from a loop on Kincaid's equipment harness.
"Just like the vampire lair," I said quietly.
"No claymores here," Kincaid said. "Should have had claymores." He shook his head and blinked his eyes a couple of times, trying to focus them. "Dresden, not much time. The girl. They got out with her. She's alive."
I grimaced and looked away.
His bloody hand shot out and seized the front of my coat. "Look at me."
I did.
I expected rage, hate, and blame. All I got was a look of...just, desperate, desperate fear.
"Go after them. Bring her back. Save her."
"Kincaid..." I said softly.
"Swear it," he said. His eyes went out of focus for a second, then glittered coldly. "Swear it. Or I'm coming for you. Swear it to me, Dresden."
"I'm too damned tired to be scared of you," I said.
Kincaid closed his eyes. "She doesn't have anybody else. No one."
Murphy knelt down by Kincaid across from me. She stared at me for a moment, then said quietly, "Jared, rest. He's going to help her."
I traded a faint, tired smile with Murphy. She knows me.
"But-" Kincaid began.
She leaned down and kissed his forehead, blood and all. "Hush. I promise."
Kincaid subsided. Or passed out. One of the two.
"Dresden, get out of the way," Gard said in a patient voice.
"Don't tell me you're a doctor," I said.
"I've seen more battlefield injuries than any bone-saw-flourishing mortal hack," Gard said. "Move."
"Harry," Murph said, her voice tight. "Please."


Small Favor Chapter 34, Page 281-282